Early Morning Adventures
by peaceinfiction
Summary: A set of stories written for "Houses competition" drabble. (1)Bill steals something. (2) House-elves (3)who knows? Rated M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

A/N this story is written for MoonlightForgotten's houses competition.

House: Ravenclaw

Category: Drabble

Prompts: An injury/ awkward moment

Disclaimer: I do not own harry potter or anything affiliated with it. It is all JK Rowling's genius.

Bill/Fleur "words" _"French"_

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That picture was crooked.

Bill had been home at the burrow for all of forty seconds and already he had something to complain about. The young curse-breaker narrowly avoided colliding with a cabinet he knew contained fragments of over a decade of Weasley children's toys. Molly never seemed to be able to throw any of them away. He muttered a low curse under his breath and rubbed his sore elbow.

His mother had invited him and his wife to the burrow for a long-awaited visit tomorrow, but he had declined. Allegedly she wanted to see her oldest son, but Bill knew that in the few moments before Fleur arrived his mother would be at his throat.

Of the seven Weasley brats, Molly only seemed to be particularly keen on his love-life. If only Ron had a girl-friend everything could be so much simpler. No one would care what Bill got up to if ickle-Ronniekins brought home a girl. Though on second thought, Bill mused, his brother might not swing that way. At least if Ron's present friend-group was any indication, he and Harry were clearly blind, or gay.

Not that he cared. So long as Harry didn't end up screwing You-Know-Who, or anything else equally nauseating. Disturbed by his thought process, Bill shook himself. Clearly he was just going through some-sort of mid-Fleur crisis. After all, the veela had done wonders for him, never-before could he...stopping that train of thought as well, lest his lust for Fleur completely negate the reason he was snooping around the Burrow at half-past one, Bill opened the larder.

Ah, there it was. The most-amazing, Molly-made, mouthwatering...the secret Weasley recipe for a full English breakfast. In her late stage of pregnancy Fluer had demanded that Bill get her a " _vrai petit dejeuner anglais_ ". She had begged him to accept Molly's invitation to the burrow. Coward that he was, he could not bring himself to go through another one of Molly's rants, but after a week of the veela's cravings the soon-to-be father had been unable to deny her any longer.

Which brought him to where he was standing now. He had apparated into the back-garden and crept over the wall to steal the precious recipe. After all, his mother was a powerful witch, one he had no desire to confront directly. Here he was, about to steal her jealously-kept treasure. Bill took a moment to appreciate that he was still intact.

He reached up to the recipe shelf and grabbed his prize. Grinning to himself, he turned around just as the lights in the kitchen blinked on...

"WILLIAM WEASLEY!"

He had tickled the sleeping dragon. "How dare you come here in the middle of the night to steal my recipes. Have you no shame?" There, posed in the doorway, was the wicked witch herself.

Molly continued, "You, a grown man, sneaking over my garden wall! What on earth has prompted this?"

Stammering, and blushing beet-red Bill stuttered out his reasoning: that Fleur was craving Molly's cooking, about his fears, and finally about the coming of his new daughter.

"A Grandchild!" his mothers eyes lit up and they sparkled with a new, dangerous gleam. "Well, if your wife is craving an English breakfast, then I will make her one." Bill thanked her profusely. "Under one condition", Molly bargained, "When my first grandchild is born, you will bring her here so that she can spend time with her grandma. I miss having young children in the house."

Bill smiled in relief, "Sure Mum. Just one question, what is the secret ingredient on your eggs?"

Molly stated simply,

"Parsley."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N this story is written for MoonlightForgotten's houses competition.

House: Ravenclaw

Category: Theme

Theme/Prompt: House elves/elf

Disclaimer: I do not own harry potter or anything affiliated with it. It is all JK Rowling's genius.

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Life Behind the Breadbasket

Her name was Tuppy. It was uncommonly thoughtful, and completely accidental branding from her first family that had unsurprisingly stuck with her. The baptism had occurred when young Tuppy, then known as Elfie, had, in a moment of exhaustion, passed out inside a plastic Tupperware container while drying it. Her mistress' rage at finding an elf inside the cupboard had only been matched by Tuppy's elation at finally being given a name by the mistress's three year-old nephew.

Tuppy was proud of her name and took great joy in telling the story to any of her many grand-elfies in the hope that they too would one day be privileged with a special name. Unfortunately, few of them had, though one of her great, great–grand elfies had recently been dubbed Snotty. That had been an auspicious day for Tuppy. For not only did Snotty become Snotty, it was also the day she got the news that she would be given ceremonial clothes, which would then be taken away by her new family.

The elf-goddess had been especially kind to Tuppy, as Tuppy had managed to stay with the same family for three generations, each new owner gradually forgetting her existence, but having enough sense to keep her mark on the inheritance papers.

In that way, what had started off as just Tuppy and her broom-sharer, Sooty had grown into an entire clan of Tuppy-elfies. Of course, not all good things last, and so after a hundred years of Tuppy's Dynastic rule of the Prince family manor, here she was, on the brink of departure.

Clothes, such a simple word for such terrible items. Her newest master had given her a button and it was with a heavy heart that Tuppy wrapped her long fingers around the brown monstrosity. To think, people wore these everyday.

Tuppy grabbed onto her unblemished pillowcase with the family crest and snapping her fingers, the button stitched itself onto the top of the shield. It would forever be a mark of shame in her perfect-tea towel life.

With a loud crack, Tuppy popped from the manor. Never to be seen again. At least that's how Tuppy hoped the story would be told. The reality, however, the reality was much, much worse.

Upon arriving at her new assignment, Tuppy had initially been quite pleased. The place looked ruined. 'They is clearly needing a house-elf' Tuppy thought to herself, glad that no other elf resided here, for none of the master-fearing beings would ever allow the windows to be in such a state.

Trotting over to the mud-splattered door, she pondered whether or not she should simply hop through the slightly grimy cat door and get straight to work, or if she should bother her new family for an introduction.

Tuppy decided to do the former. If these masters were anything like her old ones, they wouldn't want her to bother them. As soon as she stepped inside the house, however, Tuppy was presented with a dilemma.

That picture on the wall was not moving.

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Thank you for reading!


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